Iced Tea is Clearly the Cure
by NeoNails
Summary: Layla was not a bad person. She judged people based on their personalities, not their looks. She was usually able to pull herself together... until today. "You know, you're staring."


It's been really long since I've written a decent Warren/Layla. I can't say this really has a lot of action, but when I got this idea I knew I had to use it for _SH_ because it's been way too long since you guys saw anything from me.

I've recently become straight _addicted_ to the USA channel's new TV show, _Covert Affairs_, so I have a bunch of oneshots already done for that. As a result, I felt guilty I haven't really pushed anything out for my go-to fandoms. Hopefully I'll come across a couple more ideas for _SH_ soon. :)

$4$

_You make me so hot  
__You make me wanna drop  
__It's so ridiculous  
__I can barely stop_

- "Hot," by Avril Lavigne

* * *

Layla Williams was not a bad person.

She cared about the environment, animals, people… if there was a cause, chances were that Layla was in full support of it. She spent her weekends volunteering at her mom's animal shelter, the hospital where her dad worked, and at the recycling center down the street.

Magenta called her an overachiever, but really she just enjoyed giving back. No one ever believed her when she mentioned it, but she truly was one of those rare people that loved to volunteer and help out her community.

By all accounts, Layla was a good person. Which was why she would have no problem pulling her eyes away in five, four, three, two…

What?

She wasn't the type of girl to actually _have_ a 'type,' a specific kind of guy that she found attractive. She judged people based on their personalities, not looks. Insides counted more for her than outsides.

That said, she was a red-blooded teenaged girl, so on occasion she did find herself maybe more than a little distracted by a member of the opposite sex. But it was rare, and it usually only lasted a few seconds until she remembered that those hands or that back or those arms belonged to an actual _person_ with feelings and a personality, and not just some drool-worthy mannequin.

She was usually able to pull herself together… until today.

"You know, you're staring."

Magenta said this, leaning against the opposite support beam from Layla. They were standing on the Stronghold's lovely back porch, each holding a glass of iced tea and watching their friends attempt (and fail?) at putting together some kind of barbeque pit Mr. Stronghold had insisted was absolutely necessary for any summer parties.

"You're staring, too," Layla finally replied, taking a long drink from her glass. Because it was really, really hot out, even under the shade the porch provided. That was why she was so thirsty and nothing else.

Magenta chuckled, dark brown eyes drifting lazily over to eye her best friend. "Yeah," she agreed. "But I can actually look away. Also, I have a reason to stare- at my boyfriend. What reason do you have?"

Ahh, shit. Magenta had her there.

After several months broken up, Will and Layla were essentially back to where they were two years ago, when they were freshmen. Only, luckily enough for Layla, she didn't spend as much time mooning over him.

And, truthfully, she wasn't mooning over anyone now. She was just… appreciating the view.

Oh, crap, she was going to hell no matter what way she phrased it.

"You keep this up and he's going to notice," Magenta warned, hiding her knowing smirk behind her icy cold glass. "He's always been pretty observant for a guy, and you spending the last 10 minutes more or less eye-fucking him makes it pretty obvious."

Layla made a noise of protest in the back of her throat, but still wasn't able to rip her eyes away. "I am not eye-" she faltered, cheeks flushing red and quickly spreading to the rest of her face and chest. "I am not eye-_anything_ him. I'm just… watching the boys put together the fire pit."

Magenta snorted, balancing her glass on the railing long enough to tug her purple and dark brown hair out of the haphazard bun it was in and then quickly pull it back out of her face and into a slightly neater ponytail. "That's bull," she said bluntly. "That's bull and you _know_ it."

Layla knew she was caught, but couldn't actually force herself to _stop_.

Warren lifted the grill, about to set it into place while Will used his super strength to hold the recently cemented bricks together. Zach and Ethan mostly acted as supervisors, pointing out how Warren should best place the grill and where Will should be holding the bricks.

This was working (not really) until Warren not-so-subtly snapped that Zach and Ethan knew best, _they_ could be the ones to lug the (insert epithet here) grill to the (_wow_ Warren had colorful vocabulary) fire pit.

It was late June and already the weather was climbing closer and closer to 100 degrees. As a result, Ethan and Zach wore cargo shorts and t-shirts, and Magenta and Layla had thrown on camis and shorts.

Will and Warren, who were working the hardest of everyone, happened to also be the people that wore the least. Both of them had stripped out of their shirts early on, but while Will (despite his super strength) was pale and still kind of on the scrawny side, Warren was… _not._

Layla blinked, her throat suddenly dry again, as she watched as Warren hefted the heavy grill and dropped it almost perfectly into the brick pit. She was probably a good twenty or thirty feet away from the boys, but she swore she could count the muscles on Warren's back. And arms. And stomach…

She tipped her head back, inhaling the rest of her iced tea until the ice cubes tumbled down and hit her face. She immediately threw her head forward, letting out a tiny, "Shoot," as she wiped the water from her face. As embarrassing as that was, it was a damn good thing it happened because the ice cold water served its purpose in snapping Layla the hell out of her dopey little reverie.

Squaring her shoulders and tilting her body around, she stared at Magenta, completely turning away from the guys. That way, she physically couldn't be tempted. "I am a horrible, terrible person," she said, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper.

Magenta chuckled, shaking her head a little as she eyed her best friend. "Nah, you're not a horrible person," she said, taking another sip of iced tea. "You're just human. It's actually kind of refreshing to see coming from you. It doesn't happen often."

Layla screwed her eyes shut, making a tiny little whimper in the back of her throat. "I don't think this has anything to do with me being human," she replied, dropping her head against the support beam with a dull _thud_. "I think this has everything to do with me being a total 'ho."

"I'm not even sure you know how to _be_ a total 'ho," Magenta said, the smirk still evident in her voice. "I think you'd die from guilt and shame on your first try. Not that it wouldn't be _totally_ entertaining."

At that precise moment, Warren clomped up the three stairs and on to the porch, clad only in jeans, heavy boots, and gloves. Not that Layla looked too closely. She was too busy staring straight into Magenta's eyes, and that was _it_.

"Guinea pig, hippie," he said in greeting, nodding to the both of them as he headed towards the house, no doubt to ask Mrs. Stronghold for more iced tea. Before he reached the door, he glanced over at Layla, a dangerous smirk on his face. "Like what you see, hippie?"

Layla's mouth fell open, and her brown eyes turned to saucers. Her whole body froze while everything from her hairline down burned. She was so caught up in her embarrassment that she missed the door slam shut as Warren walked into the house.

Without even thinking or attempting to stop herself, Layla said the first thing that finally crossed her mind, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

"Well, fuck."

$4$

Hope you liked it!


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